The Blindside    PreviouslySevenSins,SevenVirtues
by Ivy Pseudonym
Summary: "Everyone has a blind spot Granger, you just can't see it." Hermione Granger is working her way up in the Ministry, but when a proposal back fired on her, and an old kiss comes back to haunt her, Hermione discovers seeings isnt always believing. ON HOLD!
1. Mercy

_**Author's**** note; **_I probably owe all the people who read this before a huge appology. I adopted this story from OnceUponADecember/Han and I planned to continue it. I posted the two chapters then left it for 2 weeks. Now I have decided to change things up again. So I appologise for that, as well as for not updating for ages. This now means the story is heading in a different direction and set at a totally different time. Sorry again for the confusion.

So basically, this story has been published in parts as 'Sinfull Love' and 'Seven Sins, Seven Virtues'. Now however, it is 'The Blindside' and shall remain so, but is based on the same sorts of principles. It'll make sense further through, I promise. Due to the fact chapter one was actually written by Han, I wanted to keep it the same as I could, but because the time and plot have changed, I've had to take bits out and add bits in, but I've tried my hardest to keep it as true to what it really was.

Anyway, sorry for the mess ups, and hope you enjoy =D

**_Disclaimer; _**I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. Also, the original concept for this story belongs to OnceUponADecember. I guess I get whats left (:

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_**Introduction; **_This story is set directly after Battle of Hogwarts, and litteraly takes off from after the chapter 'The Flaw in the Plan.' However, chapter one is more of a prolouge as sorts for the story which takes place 5 years later.

_Blindside - **1**. To hit or attack on or from the blind side. **2. **To catch or take unawares, especially with harmful or detrimental results._

_**Chapter 1:**_**  
Mercy**

_Mercy__ - _Associated with the virture of patience_. _Compassionate treatment, especially of those under one's power; clemency._..._

She sat on the stone step, her shoulders shuddering and her bottom lip trembling. Her body had curled into itself, her chin resting on her knees and her arms tightly hugging her knees to her heaving chest. Her eyes, those molten brown eyes, glistened with burning tears. The tears fell one by one down her grimy cheeks; her eyes were bloodshot and filled with pain. A hand held itself over her mouth, unsuccessfully trying to muffle the heart-wrenching sobs that tore from her throat. Her Muggle clothes were filthy and torn, and her wand lay forgotten on the cold, hard floor. She mumbled now and again, incoherent words that didn't make sense when put into a sentence together. Her curls surrounded her face, knotted and matted and several shades darker with dirt.

Yet she was still beautiful to him.

"Hermione," he whispered the name familiar on his tongue. Not because he was allowed to call her as such, but because it was what he called her in his mind every time he had to call her a Mudblood, it was what he called her in his dreams. The name had become so familiar to him. It was so beautiful, too. Just like the one it belonged to. Hermione hadn't even noticed he had whispered her name, so caught up in her grief. It killed him to see her in such a state, and yet, he had hurt her so many times in the past that he should be used to it by now.

She sat around rumble. Chunks of brick and mortar lay scattered around her. Draco felt his stomach knot – he had been a part of it; a part of all of it.

"Hermione," he said again, this time a little louder. She looked up at

He pressed his lips into a thin line at the thought of Hermione-_his _Hermione-crying and in pain - partly due to himself and his actions and choices. It made him feel sick in the pit of his stomach.

A loud sob, louder than the rest, snapped his wandering mind back to attention, focusing on the problem at hand. Why hadn't anyone come to comfort her? Where was Potter? He always boasted about protecting those he cared for, so why wasn't Potter there with his precious Hermione now? Had the glory of winning been too much for him? Draco didn't want to leave her in such a state, but what if he accidentally gave away his hiding place in the shadows? Would they bicker and throw insulting comments to each other as always?

Or would he finally get her to open up to him?

He thought about it for a second. Perhaps, if he approached her in the most non-threatening way possible, perhaps she might just open up. Even if it was only for tonight...

However, he wasn't stupid or delusional. He knew Hermione wasn't going to believe he had a good side at first, never mind trust him straight away, and with good reason, too. He had been nothing but mean to her for more than six years, he had been the first one to call her a Mudblood, but he was a patient man. He could wait and slowly win the heart of his beautiful bookworm. He was going to make up for everything he had put her through in the last six years.

His mind was set. He couldn't wait for her any longer. And it was the perfect opportunity, too. She was alone, vulnerable and in need of comfort.

And he was more than willing to give it to her.

He watched Hermione shiver from the cold draft in the old hallway and took off his old house cloak, a dark colour with silver outlining the hem of his cloak and his neckline; the cloak itself was pure black with the Slytherin house crest on the left breast. The material was soft to the touch; extremely expensive. Draco knew it probably wouldn't provide much warmth, due to the fact it was well worn and had several large rips, but somehow he hoped this would be the best way to approach her.

He walked with a cautious step towards her shaking form, his walk so different from his usual confident, almost arrogant, stride. His footfalls echoed quietly with each step but Hermione never looked up. She either didn't care if someone was coming or was still too caught up in her sorrow to notice. Her face was twisted into one of pain; it was an expression he never wanted to see on her perfect face ever again. He licked his suddenly dry lips as he came to a stop before Hermione and held his cloak out in front of him, holding it by its collar. He took a deep breath and tried to make his facial expression as welcoming as possible, something he hadn't done in a long time. Only now, realizing the effort it was taking to make himself look friendly, did he realize he hadn't done so in a long time. In this last year, he hadn't tried to be happy. Happy had been for the feint hearted – or so he had thought.

Fear, pressure and worry had plagued him for so long Draco couldn't remember the last time he smiled or laughed.

He gently placed his cloak around her quivering body and his eyes softened for a moment as he watched her form become engulfed in his cloak. He hadn't realized she was so much smaller than himself.

The moment the cloak draped over her body, Hermione jumped, a shocked gasp escaping her trembling lips. Her head instantly snapped up and her pained eyes met his own guarded eyes. He watched her body lock into place and her expression immediately turned from shock to embarrassment and finally settled on horror, and he knew it was at the thought of him being here and seeing her at her weakest, despite only hours ago being in her element. He always knew what she was thinking.

"Malfoy," Hermione hissed as she shrugged off his cloak with a disgusted, _"Ugh!"_ and quickly scraped her grimy sleeve across he cheeks, absorbing the

"Granger," Draco nodded to her, and picked up his rudely discarded cloak. He handed it back to her as she finished rubbing her eyes with the palm of her hands and she stared for a moment, dumbfounded by the kind gesture, then leveled him with what he guessed to be her most deadly glare that did nothing but amuse him. He watched her open her mouth to speak, and close it again. She did this a few more times until she gave up on emotion, and spoke in a defeated voice he hadn't heard before.

"What do you want_, _Malfoy-" he hated it when she called him that "It's over and I have nothing to do with what goes on for the rest of it. Voldemort is dead, the Death Eaters have fled, Auror's are on their way, I don't really know what –"

"I don't want anything, Granger." Draco mused.

Hermione had taken to standing up half way through her little rant. She was so close to Draco and he vaguely noticed her head did not even reach his chin. Her face was blushing a flattering rosy red under the grime and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying. Her face was twisted into a snarl but her lip and chin still trembled slightly. Her knees wobbled, her chest heaved and her body slouched, tired from crying or fighting, probably both. It was obvious to Draco she was in no mood to fight. But Hermione Granger was a stubborn young woman.

" – and I'm tired, and stressed, and in an horrific need of a shower. I cannot actually remember the last time I washed, or even attempted to comb my hair for that matter, so really, if you want something, please take it up with someone else."

"I don't want anything." He repeated coolly.

"Harry would be the best person to talk to if you have a problem, but I'm not sure it would be a good idea. Probably Kingsley. Although I'm not sure if he's coming because now he is Minister of Magic of course, and considering the role you've played -." Hermione finally looked up at him, right into the cool steel grey of his eyes and her voice faded.

It only occurred to her now – the part Malfoy had played. Arguably it wasn't really a part, to the best of her knowledge, when she had been at Malfoy Manor, he had saved Harry. Partly. He had feigned ignorance to it being Harry, but she remember what he had been asked if she was 'the Granger girl.' She remembered his answer. It had been mumbled, muttered and said to get out of the situation. But she had remembered it so clearly; I…maybe…yeah.

She knew he had said it grudgingly and unwillingly, but it had been said all the same. Herione didn't blame him for it, far from it.

Draco could almost see the cogs turning in her brain and clicking into place when she realized the full extent of the role he played. He inwardly kicked himself and visibly flinched. He was no longer the proud, arrogant descendant of Salazar Slytherin; he was a young boy who made tried to play with the big boys and had gotten tossed aside when it went wrong. He had made the wrong choices and he knew it.

He knew not whether to laugh at the irony, or to cry at the horrific situation. It would be the latter, he decided, just not in front of Hermione,

Instead, he tried to keep his cool, and continued. "You're cold, Granger. So shut up and use my rare act of kindness to its full advantage." While not the sweetest answer, Draco didn't want to come on too weak too soon.

_Take it one step at a time_. He reminded himself. Thought where he was planning on taking this he wasnt really sure.

Draco could see Hermione readying herself for snappy comeback, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. She blinked up at him cutely before sighing, her shoulders slumping in time with the tired sigh and she closed her mouth. She gently, hesitantly, reached for the cloak offered to her and tugged it lightly from his hands and wrapped it around her shoulders. She sat heavily back down on the chipped stone step and muttered to him, "I don't know what you are trying to pull, Malfoy, but I'm really not in the mood. If you have _any _ounce of decency in you, you will wait a good few hours before you mock and torment me."

Draco rolled his gray eyes at her and sat down, uninvited, next to her on the step, frowning as the cold stone froze the lower half of his body instantly.

"If I wanted to... mock and torment you, as you put it, don't you think I would have done it by now, Granger?" Draco enquired, smirking down at her as she eyed him warily.

Hermione blinked once again, her expression one of wonder as she whispered, "I know what you want."

Draco tilted his head slightly to the side in a questioning manner, a perfectly arched eyebrow lifting in amusement. "And what do I want," he asked, his voice holding its usual sneer, but somehow, it seemed softer to Hermione, and Draco also realized this. It also held a slight quiver.

"You want me to try and get you off. For whatever charges they bring against you. You want me to testify."

He tore his face away from her honey eyes and stared at the dusty stone beneath his feet. He couldn't bear to look at her for shame and closed his eyes tightly. Draco knew he hadn't intentionally come down to see her to ask her this, but he knew it must have been a factor. Tears of shame and unshed emotions he could not name burned behind his eyelids. Crying in front of Granger, how times had changed.

Neither spoke, they did not need words. After a few minutes, Hermione looked up at him. His face was still bent, and she could have sworn she saw a wet streak down his cheek.

"Draco," she whispered. He looked up at her, the streak wiped away so fast and pulled off so casually, it looked like he'd just brushed his hair out of his eyes, but the redness around his eyes gave him away. "I will."

He nodded. A 'thank you' burned on his lips, but wouldn't come out. He nodded again. And turned to look away again when she continued, "and I'll ask Harry and Ron to as well, though I can't speak for them, but I'll testify for you." She gave him a small smile, and huddled tighter into his cloak.

Some part of him made him need to say something, to make sure she knew he wasn't using her. "I didn't come here to ask you that, you know, Hermione."

She gave him a crooked smile, "why did you then?"

Draco shrugged a shoulder and answered, "Crying females have always been a weakness of mine."

"You are aware you just told me a weakness of yours which I can now use against you?" She smirked in her best Malfoy impression.

Draco shrugged again and waved his hand in a flippant manner. "I doubt you could hardly do much with that little secret, Granger."

"True, true. But then it depends on the circumstance I suppose. Just you wait and see, I'll find a way." She smirked again playfully. Draco found himself smiling back at her and he laughed a small laugh.

Draco ran his hand carelessly through his hair, a habit he picked up during the time the Dark Lord had taken over his house. Weather brushing away his fears or trying to create a new style, he knew not, but it relaxed him.

"So, why are you out here anyway?" He asked gently. Every accusation and threat that had left either of their lips over the past 6 years seemed to have been discarded, and he was already going to Hell after everything he had done with the Dark Lord, so he might as well go down in style.

"Just wanted some alone time." She said, trying to sound light, but he knew her better than she thought. Draco had been watching her for such a long time, even when he was sent out to kill Dumbledore, he had watched her. She had been his angel in the crowds, even if she had not noticed. He thought back to the Yule Ball. He had never seen Hermione cry so long and hard before, and it was all Weasley's fault. He had heard everything the Weasel had accused her of. And Krum too, he was no better. Kiss then ditch? Oh, yes, he knew all about the little kiss on the lips they had shared at the end of the Ball. Then he thought back to all the times he'd called her a Mudblood, and all the tears he had watched her secretly shed at pain he had caused her.

"That isn't the tip of the unicorn's horn is it Granger? I can see it the way you're crying."

"And how would you know that?" Hermione snapped. There was no fear in her eyes.

"Because I watch you."

It wasn't until after he had said it he realized those four words sounded extremely perverted and sounded like something a _stalker_ would say. And by the look on Hermione's face, she felt the same way. "You... watch me." She said a look of loss on her face. He realized; she had no idea what to say next.

"I mean," he tried to amend, but he realized the only way he could try to make her see what he really meant was by admitting he liked her. Why else would he watch her?

Hermione sniffed and watched him with a keen eye as she asked slowly, as though contemplating whether she should really be asking him, "Malfoy...why would you want to watch me?"

Draco ran a hand through his hair again, not feeling relaxed as he had done before, so settled for repeating the action several times, each time more forcefully, as though about to rip the hair out of his scalp. A frustrated Hermione reach out and grabbed his wrist and pulled it away from his head to his lap, but she didn't let go.

"It's not in a weird way…or anything." He muttered. "I guess I just pay more attention than most, to you…sometimes."

Before he could change his mind, his hands left his side and her hand and cupped her face so tenderly he believed for a moment that someone else was grasping her face in such a loving hold. But it was him holding her precious face so gently, it was his thumbs carefully wiping away her tears before they could fall, it was him making her blush that flattering colour red under the dirt as it gently spread from her small, perfect nose to her smooth cheeks. It was a side of him neither had seen before.

When the situation caught up with his mind, the desire he held for her came back with a vengeance, gripping his heart tightly and darkening his eyes. His breathing became heavy and his eyes wandered down to Hermione's lips. His breath hitched, he had never wanted anything as much as he wanted Hermione right now. He didn't want to wait any more; he had waited far too long and gone through far too much to waste this opportunity that he had dreamed about so many times.

Hermione's voice quivered, but this time Draco was sure it wasn't out of fear. "M-Malf-" Before she could even finish his name, his lips crashed against her own in a desperate attempt to keep Hermione from thinking too much. He had to make her see she desired him as much as he desired her. His hands grasped her face in a firmer hold and pressed her impossibly close to his body. He could feel her relax into the kiss, and it made his heart soar. He shivered as he felt her hands slowly wrap around his waist and she pressed herself against him, his tattered cloak slipping off her shoulders to the floor. He tilted his head slightly for better access to her lips and his fingertips curled around the back of her head, gently playing with her soft locks. He greedily kissed her, his tongue roughly caressing and dancing with her own

They would have to come up for air soon, but Draco didn't want the kiss to end. It was everything he had ever thought it would be and more. Now that he knew how absolutely incredible she tasted, he never wanted to stop.

But then Hermione pulled away, and they gasped for breath. Draco missed her taste already; he needed to taste her again so badly. He buried his face in her neck; his lips pressed into the silky skin of her shoulder, satisfied he could catch his breath and taste her at the same time.

Draco felt Hermione's chest heaving against his and as the haze of the desire he had felt moments before left his mind, he slowly began to realize how _right _it felt to have her in his arms. His heart fluttered and twisted in ways he couldn't imagine as he felt her breathing against the pale skin of his neck.

He kissed the hollow of her color bone, once, twice, a third time the gently leaned back. She opened her mouth to say something, but words wouldn't form.

"Hermione?" A voice called, and the two sitting on the step whirled around. Harry stood on the top step looking down on them.

Hermione stumbled to her feet, almost falling down the rest of the steps had Draco not caught her by the elbow in standing up himself.

"Yes, H-Harry?" She asked, her voice shaking and sounding several octaves higher than usual.

Harry looked down at them both, a frown forming on his face. He walked down towards them, jumping over the missing fourth step. His frown deepened when his thoughts were confirmed that Malfoy had been sitting next to Hermione.

He decided to forget that Malfoy was present, unsure why the Slytherin was there at all, and turned directly to Hermione. "Ron and me have been looking all over for you. Officials from the Ministry are coming, Kinsley too, to sort everything out." Harry had more to say, but did not want to continue in front of Malfoy.

"Alright," Hermione said pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'll be up in a minute ok?" She tried her best to smile, and hoped it didn't look too much like a grimace. Harry gave her a small smile, turned his gaze to Malfoy who was looking pointedly away, then began to make his way back up the steps.

Once the footfalls had fallen away, Hermione slumped back down onto the step, unsure of what to do now. But feeling the cold now without the cloak, despite it being a bright May morning, she picked it back off the floor and wrapped it around herself.

Draco knew he should say something. Weather about the kiss, or her offer to testify, or something about the war that had just taken place, he knew not. But thankfully, she relieved him of that.

She stood tall and turned to him, her chin up, _Always the Gryffindor, _he couldn't help but think.

"Take a plea of mercy, and I'll testify, you have my word. I'll ask Harry and Ron too, and they'll show up if they decide to I suppose."

"A plea of mercy." He agreed and nodded.

Hermione smiled a crooked smile and turned away to walk back up the steps. She had taken one pace when she turned and made to hand him back his cloak.

"No," he protested, bushing it away. "Keep it, I don't need it."

"Thank you." She said, smiling again, and began walking up the steps.

"Granger." He called, finally finding his courage. She turned. "Thank you." She nodded once and turned away and disappeared through the door.

"A plea of mercy." He murmured quietly, his knees giving way collapsed onto the step. Now the tears streamed down his cheeks easily. His body shook silently. "A plea of mercy." He repeated. He didn't even have to swallow his pride anymore. It had died a long time ago. Now Fear came and sat down beside him, draping an arm around his shoulder, looking out at the view, and settled down for as long as it would take for the Ministry to take them both to Azkaban, and then Fear would invite Misery, and then what a party they would have.

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_Ivy Pseudonym _

_12th September, 2010_


	2. Compassion

**Authors note;** Ok, I bet some of you are confused. Basically, this story is 'Seven Sins, Seven Virtues', but I've changed it around - alot. I liked the concept, so I just deleted chapter 2, and replaced chapter 1. I thought it would notify you, but apparently it doesnt do that. So, it suggest **you go back and read the new version of chapter one. **Otherwise this might make sense, but not really. Anyway, I'm pretty please at how this turned out. And its quite a long one - 5,502 words. So I hope you all like it. Anyway, please read, review and everything else. Thank you for the reviews I did get. And to **edwardsoneandonly** for prompting me and pointing things out; thank you. Also to **OnceUponADecember **thank you for putting up with my annoying PMs and for letting me change this up.

I hope you all enjoy 3

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**Chapter 2**

**Compassion**

_Compassion_ – Associated with the virtue of kindness. Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it.

_6 years later..._

"Son of a banshee," Hermione Granger cussed furiously under her breath as she hopped around the ground floor of her cottage trying to find the missing shoe. It was black, had a two inch stiletto heel, was covered in a soft black fabric, and peep-toed. It was a mirror image of the shoe on her right foot and she cussed again under her breath; this time at her stupidity.

Pulling the wand out of the pocket in her just-above-knee length black skirt muttered "Accio missing black shoe." From underneath a pizza box the mirror image shoe flew gently towards her, which she caught quickly then rammed on her left foot. As she bent down to do this, she felt a sharp prod on her backside. She whirled around to find 4 odd black shoes, toes pointing towards her, hovering waiting to be picked up.

"For Merlin's sakes," She sighed, and pushed each shoe to the floor, mentally noting that she really needed to tidy up this place – and sort out her shoes at that. Quickly Hermione picked up a pile of papers and her smart red briefcase that her mother had bought her for her last birthday, and a black Channel handbag she had indulged in after her first big case had been won, she quickly opened the front door, closed it behind her, tapped it twice with her wand, walked out into her driveway and closed her eyes and thought of the Ministry.

The street was busy with witches and wizards heading towards the grand entranceway, and most nodded their head in her direction, waved, and wished her good morning.

"Ah, Hermione, I was hoping to catch you on your way in." Hermione turned and saw a dumpy witch jogging to catch up with her. She was short and round, with a flamboyant taste in robes, today which were bright magenta and green, the clashed horribly with her dark auburn hair.

She smiled, "What's the problem Ellis?"

Ellis and Hermione walked together to the lifts to take to the second floor, and Elis accompanied her to her office, talking continuously and spewing a tragic story of her nephew and an issue with underage magic, three ministry warnings and a threatened expulsion. Hermione and Ellis walked right up to Hermione's office door, and upon Hermione agreeing for fourteenth time to speak personally to Mafalda Hopkirk, Ellis turned away and headed back down the corridor.

Hermione rested her forehead against the door to her office and hanged her head again the glass three times. It was going to be one of those days.

The Department of Magical Law enforcement was a large department, Hermione's office was the furthest possible from the lift, as she often noted angrily when she had a large pile of papers to take home that night. The section in which her office was in was at the end of the east wing of the department. From the lifts a long cream coloured corridor lead to a large room, in which ten junior staff and interns worked in. Senior members of department had individual offices as appose to the booths the rest of the workforce had.

Hermione had a senior staff office, though at the age of 25 she was the youngest witch in the history of the Ministry to have an office as such. The office actually more like two offices, combined. A glass wall cut it off from the rest of the department, but Hermione had felt like an animal in a zoo, so had the blinds drawn except for one panel, and the door, which always was open. Through the door, which she walked through now, was a small office type room. A desk and a chair sat neatly to the right of a door that was framed with a dark wood that was part of wall. This was for an assistant. It wasn't that she hadn't hired one yet, because an assistant was what she really wanted, but all the people assigned to her had started on Monday and had quit by Wednesday.

Hermione's assistant, or lack of, was a running joke in the office, but Hermione found it amusing, and welcomed interns to take the challenge of trying to last a week. They never did. Hermione vowed after the last crying blonde had left the office, pink stapler and nail file in hand, that she would try and be nicer to the next applicant. She had too much work to not have an assistant.

Despite Hermione's best effort to try and brighten up the assistant section of her office, no one wanted to apply. She had added several potted plants and flowers. She even had two small goldfish in a glass bowl sitting on the desk, trying to liven it up. A set of cream sofas and chairs sat off to the left, magazines set on a class table. When Ginny came to visit her, they often sat there and enjoyed a cup of coffee.

She sighed as she opened her office door put the papers she was carrying and her briefcase down on her desk. Unlike her cottage, her desk was immaculate; a in-tray and out-try sat on the right hand corner, mainly for her own usage seeing as the concept seemed lost on the majority of the department. Sets of quills and ink pots were next to the tray. The desk was large and faced the corridor. Behind it sat a big blue chair, and behind that a big bay window in which the sky was usually a perfect blue with the odd string of clouds floating by.

The left wall of the office was filled with files and reference books. Along the left side sat two armchairs and a sofa facing each other with a smart class coffee table. A vase of purple orchids bloomed in a vase on the table, and two goldfish swam in a big glass bowl on the windowsill. Hermione liked goldfish.

She took a seat behind her desk and began filing through the papers that had been left on it. Through the two doors which she had propped open walked past calling to her a cheery 'hello' which she replied to. Every so often a paper plane would fly through with a note or remark from various people from various departments.

It was eleven o'clock on her omega wrist-watch then the paper-plane arrived. She caught it with her left hand, her eyes not wavering from the parchment she was writing on. She finished her paragraph then turned to the note. She recognized the hand writing immediately; Augusta Spink. Head of Magical Law Enforcement – Hermione's boss.

Hermione unfolded the note quickly, knowing that Augusta wasn't exactly known for her patience and felt her heart skip a beat.

_Ms. Granger,_

_I request you come to my office as soon as possible, regarding you proposal for the pastories._

_Regards,_

_Augusta Spink_

_Head of Magical Law Enforcement_

_Order of Merlin third class_

_Member of the Wizengemot._

Hermione quickly walked over to her adjoining bathroom and smoothed over her white blouse, wiped away some smudged eyeliner with a finger, then began to walk down the corridor to Augusta's office.

It wasn't that she didn't like wearing robes, because Hermione certainly did, but as a child growing up in the Muggle community, she had always dreamed about being a high class business woman who wore smart slick black skirts and white blouses and black shoes. It was this dream she had taken to the Ministry of Magic. Her fashion style made her stick out like a sore thumb, but she liked it. Power dressing was the Muggle term. Hermione felt it rather adequate.

She walked briskly across the hallway and down the corridor towards Augusta Spink's office, and as she walked, she frowned. Thinking back to the note, Augusta had said, 'plan for the pastories.'

_Pastories?_

What in the name of Merlin was a pastorie? Hermione hadn't written any proposal for pastories. She couldn't even think what a pastorie was.

Hermione walked through the door and smiled at Augusta's secretary, a good looking young man named Sam. He was dark skinned with short cropped hair only a few years younger than Hermione.

"Hey Hermione, she's waiting for you." He smiled at her, and winked, as though knowing something she didn't.

"Thanks, Sam." Hermione frowned but smiled back at him and knocked once before walking into Augusta's office.

Augusta's office was circular and simple. Piles of papers were staked haphazardly on every visible surface. Hermione felt the need to go and tidy and file it all for her, and her fingers twitched at her sides. Augusta was a round woman, with short curly brown hair and sparkling green eyes. She was a confusion to Hermione, and Hermione could think of no one she thought less suited to working in Law Enforcement. But Augusta obviously felt differently and had been working in the department for over 20 years.

Augusta herself was tall, beginning to wrinkle, fake tanned skin, and grey flecked her brown hair. She had brown eyes the colour of molten chocolate that had a light about them. She reminded Hermione of an orang-utan with a spark in its eye.

"Morning Augusta," Hermione said, clenching her hands to stop them from leading her to the chair that was hidden with reports and files and organizing it.

"Ah, there you are Granger." Augusta said. She instantly dropped her quill and scurried around her desk to Hermione, the smell of cigarettes strong on her breath of clothes. "Now, I'll cut to the chase, I spoke to the Minister about this proposal concept of yours about pastories – "

"Forgive me," Hermione spoke nervously. "But I didn't make a proposal about – "

"Yes you did, girl! About prisoners from Azkaban having sentences reduced or altered based on behaviour and conduct? And that they would have an assigned officer to check on them and make sure they are reintegrating into society in a positive manner. Also about trying to get them jobs?"

Hermione's brain clicked. "You mean parolees?"

"That's the Kneazle. Parolees? Pastories? What's the difference? Anyway, guess what?" Augusta bounced up and down slightly causing her large chest to wobble. It amazed Hermione at how quick the woman went from frustrated to excited. It wasn't natural.

"What?" Hermione asked, playing along.

"The minister has agreed for us to try it out. Apparently he's under a lot of pressure to get the old Death Eaters out, you know?"

Hermione gulped. When she had suggested that a parolee system be introduced, it was for things like theft and fraud – not murder and torture. I didn't surprise her that Kingsley was under pressure to do something with them.

What was someone meant to do with ex-members of a cult that killed, tortured and murdered innocent people and had tried to rise to power, and had successfully managed a coup in the ministry? Maybe she should try and explain. She thought she had made it clear in the proposal.

"Er...Augusta, you know that when I suggested the starting of a parolee system, it was for minor offences. Like theft and fraud, not more...er...serious offenders."

"Well, I am aware of that. You did express that quite a lot in the proposal."

Phew.

"So that's why I've found someone for you to try it on; this new plan of yours. You have 6 months to make this person a decent member of society. You've been looking for an assistant for Merlin knows how long. So here it is, you get an assistant. And a test run of your program. Fresh from Azkaban; but don't worry, I told Sam to take him to the bathrooms and Sam has leant him some clothes. It's all good."

Hermione blinked.

"And, between you and me," Augusta winked, "Kingsley told me that if it goes well, he'll make it a new department, and that he'd consider you heading it! Imagine that, head of a department and not even 26." Augusta beamed.

Hermione blinked again.

"So I got you an ex-Death Eater."

Hermione blinked for a third time, then seemed to find her voice. "What?" She gasped, her mouth forming a comical 'o'.

"Oh keep up Granger," Augusta breezed, waving her hand flippantly, "Kingsley – ".

"No, I heard what you said." Hermione whispered, clutching the back of the paper suffocated chair for support.

"Then what's the problem? I thought you'd be happy." Augusta looked slightly crestfallen.

"N-no, Augusta! I-I'm so pleased. R-really. And I'm so happy about the new department idea, I think it would great for the ministry. But a ex-Death Eater? For me to be in-charge of? This is going to take weeks of planning and preparation."

Augusta seemed to take Hermione's small ounce of hidden happiness and accepted it and took it as an apology for not being so happy before. So she beamed and said, "Oh hardly, Granger. He's sitting outside my office now."

Hermione thought she might faint.

"Now?"

"Yes, well, there's no time like the present is there?"

Small sounds emitted from Hermione's mouth, all incoherent and stuttered.

"Well don't do an impression of those delightful goldfish of yours, let's go and meet him."

Augusta took Hermione's hand and led a shocked and dumbfounded Hermione to her office door and yanked it open in haste. "I present to you, the freshly washed and fresh from Azkaban...Draco Malfoy."

Oh no.

The blond had stood quickly upon the door being opened and kept his head down, unsure whether or not this was still a dream. He looked up from the fringe that fell in his eyes and saw a curly haired beauty next to the monkey like woman who had brought him to the Ministry.

"Malfoy?" Hermione breathed at the same time he said "Granger?"

Malfoy couldn't help but run his eyes over her body. How she had changed. Still short, but now more curvy in all the right places, oh yes, he thought looking at her blouse, all the right places. He watched her half turn to the monkey-witch, and saw there was a perfectly shaped behind there too. Her jaw had firmed and her high cheek bones too. Her hair long hair was soft and silky, all hints of frizz gone, and it hung in messy waves around her face. She was Muggle clothes, and this amused him. He smiled crookedly in spite of himself. How his Hermione never changed.

Hermione however thought she had never seen Malfoy look so different. Thin in the extreme with his face looking more like a skull than anything else. His once smooth-slick blonde hair now hung messy and slightly long, as though in need of a decent cut. Despite his obvious washing, he was still dirty, and Hermione could see patches of dirt on his face. He wore a white shirt and a blue tie which she did recognize as Sam's and dark blue trousers with the belt wrapped around twice. This alarmed Hermione. Sam wasn't fat, not in the slightest. Even Hermione could see through the shirt at the toned chest, and new that this must mean Draco must be severely underweight.

It almost pained her to see him like this. This was not the Draco she remembered. He was smiling slightly she noted, but his eyes showed deeper scars. She felt a wave of pity for the Slytherin.

"Mr Malfoy, this is Hermione Granger. But it seems you two already know each other." Augusta chuckled to herself, as though she had previously researched the matter personally.

"Granger." Malfoy nodded.

"That'll be Ms. Granger to you, young man." Augusta said harshly.

"Miss Granger," Malfoy muttered, head lowering slightly.

Hermione wanted to say something. She felt like she should, but was unsure of where to take the conversation.

"Alright, Hermione, why don't you take Malfoy back to your office and explain to him his duties." Augusta smiled, and when Hermione didn't move, she gave her a little nudge.

Hermione went with the force of the nudge, and though small, seemed to give her the momentum she needed to come crashing back to reality but continued to pray this was a dream.

"Malfoy," she said and began to walk quickly back to her office. The blond needed no further encouragement and scrambled after her. Hermione seemed to make it to her office in record time, Malfoy quick at her heals. She reached the glass door and held it open for Malfoy as he followed her in. The people in their booths had started to recognize who was walking with Hermione and she closed the door quickly behind her, and pulling her wand out the top of her skirt, with a quick swish, drew the blinds. She turned to him and blinked a few times, unable to think of what to say.

"So, Hermione," Draco said, the smirked, "Oh, I mean, _Miss Granger._"

Then he wanted to slap himself.

"Just...ur...take a seat," Hermione indicated to the cream sofa to the left of him. "I...err...need to get my notes." She almost ran to her office and closed the door quickly behind her, sliding down the back of it and landing a head by the floor.

This could not be happening. No. Not at all. _This was like...there was nothing to even compare it too, _Hermione though bitterly, _I was that bad, there was nothing to compare it too._ Hermione hadn't thought of Draco in years.

_Yes you have,_ her heart pointed out. _You think of Draco most nights. _Hermione wanted to spontaneously combust.

But it was true. She often did think of him. It was usually at night, with Crookshanks curled up on the pillow next to her, and with Toby her rescue German Shepherd dog lying on the bottom of the bed, she thought about what he could be thinking about, before he went to bed. What he was feeling. What he would want to do when he got out. Weather of not if she had testified better, he would have had a lesser sentence.

Hermione had done her best, Harry and Ron both agreed, albeit reluctantly, to testify with her, and he had been sentenced to eight years in Azkaban. Hermione, at the time, had been appalled, but reasoned over the next few days it could have been worse. But only now, looking back on his trail, did she realize six years had passed, and six years was a long time. And he would have had two more, if Augusta hadn't stepped in.

It took her a few minutes but she quickly shook herself, stood up, and headed towards her filing cabinet to retrieve the mock up files for her new parole system.

While Hermione did this, the blond behind the door had collapsed into a chair and was currently trying to remember how to breathe.

Hermione Granger was the last person he had expected to see at the ministry. Maybe the first person he had hoped, but certainly the last he had expected. But Merlin, he couldn't help but think and smile, she was beautiful. He thought back to the last time he spoken to her, not at the trial, he wasn't allowed to talk to her then, but on the steps, outside their fallen school. She had been dirty, tired and crying; but still beautiful, in his eyes.

And their kiss.

Their kiss had been the one thought that had kept him sane, in Azkaban. He remembered her taste and would close his eyes and try to remember it and relive the moment. Late at night, when sleep evaded him as Insomnia sat next to him in the cell, he wondered where she would be. What she would be thinking about. What men should could possibly be with.

The latter annoyed him. He wasn't naive – he hadn't expected her not to have been with anyone, but a secret part of him had hoped she was waiting for him. But now, seeing her, he realized she must have someone, because there was no way in hell she was single.

But now, he was going to have to work for her. Work for Granger - or _Miss Granger_ as he was to call her now. He smirked despite himself; at least she wasn't married. That was one blessing.

Hermione returned a few minutes later, clutching two files.

"Alright then, has Augusta explained to you what's going to happen?" Hermione asked Draco, reluctantly meeting the cool grey eyes.

He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

Hermione sighed, before opening a file, skim reading as she spoke. "Basically, it's based on the Muggle system of putting a convict – a person who has committed a crime and done jail time – and trying to re-integrate them into society in a positive way, making sure they don't re-offend. They are put on a thing called parole; this is when they are out of prison but are under strict observation by an officer. In this case," she paused before continuing reluctantly, "-myself." Hermione swallowed before continuing.

"I will be monitoring your attendance to your job, which, according to Augusta, will be as my assistant. I will need to write weekly reports on how well you do your job and how efficiently you work, et cetera. After six months -it's October now, so in March - I will evaluate the entire time period, and discuss it with Augusta, and if this has turned out to be a success, it will work on a larger scale. Does that make sense?"

Draco nodded, still unsure whether to talk. Hermione inwardly repetitively slapped herself. She sounded like a primary school teacher.

"You are going to be working as my assistant, and that will include tasks like making copies of documents, getting and replacing files from achieves, making sure all my meetings are organised and confirmed, and taking notes if necessary at these meetings." Hermione looked just over his shoulder as she said this, at a slight crack in the wall. "The desk behind me is where you will work."

He nodded again.

"Any questions?" She asked quietly.

A thousand burned on his lips, but he replied with an equally as quiet, "no."

Hermione nodded and stood up briskly, "Good. Take a seat at the desk; I have some papers I would appreciate you filing." She turned away, but turned back to look at him. Waves of pity rolled over her, and she knew she was going to have to help him in some way. She smiled tentatively at him, before going into her office, and returning with parchment and files.

After explaining her system she left him at the desk and hurried back to her office. She glanced at her watch. One-thirty. She had missed lunch, but wasn't even hungry. If anything, she felt slightly nauseated. She tried to continue on with work, but her mind kept straying to the person sitting at the desk separated from the wall in front of her.

He hadn't asked one question, and had accepted her filing system and he worked quickly and efficiently. But it had be awkward, at that was one thing Hermione didn't like. It made her uneasy. She supposed that was the point of awkwardness.

As she was making notes on a case, a reluctant knock at the door made almost jump out of her skin.

"C-come in." She stuttered.

Draco slowly opened the door and peered around the room, his eyes lingering on the goldfish bowl on the window sill, a slight smile coming to his lips.

"This came for you." He said. Walking forwards to hand her an envelope.

"Thank you." She responded, taking it from his outstretched hand without meeting his eye. Hermione quietly heard him close the door behind him. She tore open the letter, begging to be from someone saying APRIL FOOL! Or 'You just got Punk'd'. But she knew the latter was a Muggle thing they hadn't even heard of, and it was October, so that blew her dream for the first one.

It was from Augusta.

_Hermione,_

_I trust things are going well with Malfoy. Please come to my office sometime before you leave to discuss the long term plan_

_Sincerely,_

_Augusta._

Hermione sat bolt upright and positively leapt from her chair in eagerness to leave. She made a B line for the door and wrenched it open. Draco looked up in surprise, but with barely a glance at him, she said, "Augusta needs to see me. Just continue with the filing, if that's ok. Thanks." And with that she was out the door.

All the while she almost ran to Augusta's office, the workers in the booths were craning her neck to see her, and a few even called her name. No doubt news of her new assistant had spread.

She slowed when she reached the door and took a deep breath before entering, the smile already plastered on her face, mainly for Sam's benefit.

"Twice in one day Hermione, you better stop, people might start getting the wrong idea Granger," Sam winked at her.

Resisting the urge to snap at him, she widened the fake grin and said, "Can I see Augusta."

"Yeah, she's just doing some paperwork. I'm surprised you came so fast, I delivered the note to Malfoy a few minutes ago. He seemed to be doing a good job from what I saw, and was pleasant enough to me. Well, he was wearing my clothes, so I should expect to I suppose." Sam chuckled at his own reasoning.

Hermione nodded before rushing into Augusta's office. She closed the door behind her with a sharp click. Augusta screamed in fright.

"Oh Merlin, Hermione! You gave an old lady a fright. Not that would you would know how old I am." Augusta winked playfully before continuing. "I wasn't expecting you to arrive so fast. I asked Sam to deliver the note not five minutes ago."

"Oh, I see, I just thought it could be important." Hermione lied smoothly.

"Fair enough. Anyway, do tell, how is Malfoy going?" Augusta peered up at Hermione.

"Good. He works well, doesn't ask questions. But he's only been around a few hours." Hermione summarized, then regretted the last part. It sounded rude.

"True, true. Let's hope he lasts longer than you other assistants." Augusta laughed while Hermione frowned. She was entirely uncomfortable with the whole situation.

"Listen, though, on to more serious matters," Augusta said, her tone uncharacteristically serious, causing Hermione to listen to her fully, knowing Augusta only spoke in this manor occasionally. "You are aware he has just literally left Azkaban this morning. I went with Sam to collect him. It was horrific Hermione." Augusta shuddered.

"Really, Granger, you can't have imagined it. I mean, obviously the Dementors are gone, but I swear, they've left something behind. It's awful. Anyway, he was brought out to us. And on Merlin's wand, I've never seen anyone look so haunted; unless you count those reported sightings of Sirius Black when he escaped ten years ago.

"He just stood there, in rags of what I presumed to be trousers, bare chested and so filthy he blended into the walls, I swear it. He was half bent over and could hardly walk. And you should see his wrists and ankles, completely scabbed over and covered with sores. So I told him basically that there was a chance he would be leaving Azkaban early, but I wanted you to be the one to explain it to him, in case I got it wrong.

"He was so weak; I had to have him Side-Along Apparate with Sam. Anyway, we brought him here and then Sam took him to the bathrooms and told him to wash down and leant him a spare suit he had. Then we took him to the canteen, and you should have seen it Granger, he ate like he hadn't seen food before. I thought he would be sick. How he kept all that down, I do not know. Then I asked Sam to keep an eye on him until I would send for you. I was quite surprised at how easy Sam took to him."

Hermione nodded, slightly dumfounded. She felt a twinge of guilt for being so off-handed with Draco earlier.

"But the reason why I called you in here was to discus money for him. As I'm sure you have realized that he has no place to stay, and no place to live."

Hermione hadn't realized.

"So I thought we could give him some funds you know, so that he could stay in the Leaky Cauldron and get some clothes and personal belongings and things."

"Yes, I think that sounds good." Hermione agreed.

"I've got 7 galleons and 15 sickles in here." Augusta said, pushing a small leather bound pouch to Hermione. Hermione took it from her and held it. "Give that to him, it's all I could get from petty cash. Tell him I'll have the bill for his stay at the Leaky Cauldron put on a tab, and I shall send an owl to Tom about the circumstances."

Hermione nodded again. More waves of guilt and pity washing over her.

"I think we all need to find the deepest compassion within ourselves. I picked him deliberately from the available prisoners. I watched the trail, you statement and when you testified...it was very moving. I signed the petition appeal after the ruling. It was all very unjust. I felt that Draco Malfoy dissevered a second chance, and deservers all the compassion we can muster for him."

Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to speak with the thickness now forming in her throat.

"Alright then Granger, you can go. Come see me Monday morning about the Barnabous vs. Skimmer case would you? And have a good weekend."

"Certainly." She was right. Her voice did crack. "And you too."

Hermione headed straight for the door, and didn't even say anything to Sam as she headed to her office. Malfoy was where she had left him, the pile of papers on his desk severely lower than what it had been when she left.

"Malfoy." She said quietly when she entered and stood in front of his desk.

"Draco." He corrected her. He didn't like hearing his last name. He didn't want reminding of what he had just spent the last 6 years paying penance for.

"Draco," Hermione repeated. "I've just met with Augusta, and she has suggested you have an expenses type fund." She placed the leather pouch on the desk and pushed it towards him. He reached out and took it from her, his fingers brushing hers lightly, and put it quickly in his pocket. She couldn't help but notice that as he reached forward, the shirt pulled up slightly and his wrist became exposed. It was like Augusta has said; scabbed and raw covered in sores. Hermione almost flinched.

"Augusta suggests you stay at the Leaky Cauldron, she said she's going to ask Tom to put your expenses there on a tab, which I assume the Ministry will pay, for the time being. So the money in there is for clothes and personal items and such."

She could feel the blush creeping into her cheeks as she said this, and his cheeks tinged slightly. How the mighty Slytherin was now so low.

"Thank you." He whispered, looking deep into her honey eyes.

As their eyes met for the first time Hermione understood what Augusta had meant about compassion. That was what Draco needed, that and a second chance. There and then Hermione vowed to do her best to make sure compassion would be what Draco got.

She smiled what she hoped was brightly. "Right, I'm just going to get my things, I'm so glad its Friday. I'll see you at 8 o'clock on Monday morning?"

"Sure." Draco nodded, giving her a small smile in return. At least that gave him the weekend to get clothes and other things.

Hermione was heading back to her office when Draco spoke. "By the way," she turned. "Why do you have goldfish everywhere?"

Hermione smiled and replied simply, "Because I like goldfish." Before going and getting her briefcase and papers.

* * *

_Ivy Pseudonym_

_16th Sptember, 2010._


End file.
